


In Midnights, and Cups of Coffee

by CrimsonBitch



Series: How to (Accidentally) Tame a Mad Dog [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Minor Injuries, They aren't all assholes but I still love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:00:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29388078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonBitch/pseuds/CrimsonBitch
Summary: A brief look at January 12th, a year apart.A lot can change in a year. One thing that doesn't change, however, is that people care about Kyoutani (whether he realizes it or not).*Title from Seasons of Love- Rent Soundtrack*
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: How to (Accidentally) Tame a Mad Dog [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141280
Comments: 18
Kudos: 190





	In Midnights, and Cups of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This fic gets a little darker than the others in this series as I delve into Kyoutani and Yahaba's home lives, but I promise it gets better. Also I'm completely making up their stories because I don't remember what their canon home lives are like.

_January 12th, One Year Ago_

Kyoutani winced as he felt the cut on his eyebrow bleeding sluggishly. He ducked into the dingy alley behind his favorite pizza shop. 

His father had come home drunk that night, yelling about how Kyoutani’s school had called earlier that evening, worried. 

_“The fuck did you say to them!?” His dad shouted as he grabbed Kyoutani’s collar, shoving him into the wall. “I didn’t tell them shit!” Kyoutani insisted. After all, it’s not his fault his dad couldn’t be bothered to make sure the bruises weren’t visible._

_Kyoutani’s dad backhanded him sharply. “You talking back to me, you little shit stain!?” His dad yelled, spraying Kyoutani’s face with whiskey-scented spit. Kyoutani shook his head, but his father wasn’t placated. “I’ve got your fuckin’ school breathin’ down my neck because you can’t man up and take a couple hits? You know if you had lived with my father, he’d have killed you by now.” His father hissed in his ear, pulling Kyoutani back slightly only to slam him into the wall yet again. Kyoutani groaned internally, feeling his head pound._

_For the life of him, Kyoutani had no idea why the school would call his father instead of going to him. He could’ve just brushed it off as a fight, but now that they’ve talked to his father they were probably going to be more suspicious. Nosy fuckin’ teachers._

Kyoutani had made an escape when his father had drunkenly stumbled away. He grabbed his backpack and booked it for the door, knowing that his father wouldn’t chase him. Hell, he probably wouldn’t remember their fight the next morning. Kyoutani thought about this, not needing to pay attention to where he was going. He knew the route.

Finally, the rundown white house that he was headed for came into view. Chunks of the lawn were torn up, most likely the work of the rottweiler that Kyoutani knew would be sleeping at the foot of Yahaba’s bed right now. Yahaba’s mother’s car was in the driveway, so instead of simply walking in, Kyoutani slunk around the side of the house until he found the window sill with the most shoe scuffs (many of which were his own). 

He tapped on the window quietly, and Yahaba appeared in a hoodie and sweatpants, rubbing his eyes. “Do you know what time it is?” Yahaba hissed as he pulled the window open. Kyoutani gave him a sheepish smile, wincing as he hauled himself up over the windowsill, Yahaba helping him in. 

“What the hell happened?” Yahaba said, fingers hovering around his eyebrow where blood was still seeping out.

“My fucking teacher called _my dad_ to say that she was ‘concered about my home life.’”

“That’s so stupid.” Yahaba scowled, “Why would they call him if they thought he was beating you?” 

Kyoutani shrugged. “Did I wake you up?” Kyoutani asked quietly. 

“Nah” Yahaba brushed off his concern, “Couldn’t sleep anyways. This needs gauze.”

Yahaba stood up and started for the door, but Kyoutani snagged his wrist. “Careful. Don’t wake up your mom.” 

Yahaba rolled his eyes. “That’s not a concern. Seriously, don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay” Kyoutani said, following Yahaba out of his room.

They passed the couch, where there was a woman sprawled out. She was breathing heavily, but seemed relaxed. He stopped, and it took a minute before Kyoutani noticed the rubber band and empty baggie of powder on the coffee table in front of her. “How is she?” Kyoutani asked.

“Not great,” Yahaba responded, tugging Kyoutani past the scene. 

Both the boys jumped when they heard a clicking noise behind them, watching as Yahaba’s older sister creeped through the door. 

Ren was one of Yahaba’s two older siblings. His brother, Aiko, had run away when Yahaba was only six, soon after his father died. Ren, only twelve at the time, was left with the responsibility of raising Yahaba when his mother fell back into… bad habits. 

Kyoutani had always liked Ren. She took a maternal role in both he and Yahaba’s life when Kyoutani’s own mother left. She patched scrapes and made sandwiches and helped with homework. She caught on to what was happening at Kyoutani’s house long before Yahaba knew. The boys may be older now and much more independent, but she was still a pillar in both of the boys’ lives.

“Ren where have you been? It’s nearly midnight on a school night.” Yahaba asked. Ren turned to the two, a flush high on her cheeks. “Don’t worry about me kid. Why are you two still awake- Jesus Christ what happened!?” She said a little too loudly, rushing over and tilting Kyoutani’s face up on her hands.

“Nothing. We’re taking care of it. Go to sleep Ren.” Yahaba said coldly, earning him a questioning glance from Kyoutani, who had never heard him address his sister so callously. 

“You sure you guys got it?” Ren asked, a slight slur in her words, “Make sure you don’t wake mom up.”

“Not too worried about it.” Yahaba muttered, nodding a head towards the woman passed out on the couch. 

“Jesus Christ, Mom” Ren said lowly, collecting the things on the coffee table and throwing them away. “Sorry you guys had to see that. She shouldn’t be doing this shit in front of you.” 

“It’s whatever,” Yahaba said, eyes not leaving Ren’s face, “It’s not like she does a very good job hiding it otherwise.” 

Ren eyed the boys, chewing a hangnail on her thumb. “You sure you guys can take care of that? It looks deep.” 

“We’re fine, Ren” Yahaba said quietly, the look in his eyes softening slightly, “Go to bed.” Ren nodded, walking towards her room. Kyoutani looked at Yahaba questioningly, but Yahaba simply shook his head, turning back towards the kitchen. 

He grabbed the first aid kit, and Kyoutani followed him to the bathroom. When they made it, Kyoutani hopped up and sat on the counter as he had done a million times before. 

“What’s up with your sister?” Kyoutani finally asked. 

Yahaba exhaled through his nose. “She’s fucking drunk, that’s what’s up with her.” 

“Is that really that bad? I mean, plenty of teenagers get drunk on school nights.”

“Yeah I know it’s just… Ren never did.” Yahaba muttered as he put some rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball and dabbed at the cut on Kyoutani’s eyebrow. The smaller boy winced but didn’t really react otherwise.

“I mean she’s had to put up with a lot of shit.” 

“Still, I don’t like seeing her deal with it like that. It’s a slippery slope”

Kyoutani thought back to the pained look on Ren’s face when she cleared the table off. She had always had a soft spot for their mother, whereas Yahaba seemed content to develop a strong resentment for the woman. 

“It doesn’t change who she is. She’s still Ren.”

“Not for long” Yahaba muttered, gently pressing a butterfly bandage on Kyoutani’s face. 

“What’s that mean?” Kyoutani said, grabbing Yahaba’s wrist and forcing the brunette to look him in the eyes. Yahaba had steadily been getting more upset during their conversation and Kyoutani had no clue why. After a minute of staring into each other's eyes, it was clear Kyoutani wasn’t gonna drop the subject. 

“I found a letter for her, open on the kitchen table.” Yahaba said, “She’s got into a college in America. Full ride.”

Kyoutani knew this was great news for Ren, who had dreamed of becoming a lawyer as long as Kyoutani had known her. Despite this, he could read the look in Yahaba’s eye like a book. 

“I’m sorry.” Kyoutani said slowly. Yahaba took a breath, and his shoulders seemed to slump further. 

“I know it’s a great opportunity for her and I should be so happy! She’s making it out of this fucking house just like Aiko did! I just… I…”

“Don’t want to see her leave?” Kyoutani prompted. 

“Yeah” Yahaba muttered. 

Kyoutani nodded, taking the band aid wrapper out of Yahaba’s now-shaking hands.

They had never talked about it explicitly, but Kyoutani was well aware of the abandonment issues that had plagued Yahaba since his father died and his brother left. This had made it very hard for him to let anybody into his life. As someone who also never really made an effort to socialize outside of Yahaba, Kyoutani couldn’t criticize the boy for that.

Normally, he and Yahaba thrive on a mutual avoidance of emotional talks, but Kyoutani could see the tremors of anxiety running through Yahaba’s hand as the brunette put ointment on one of the scrapes on Kyoutani’s cheek. He placed a hand lightly on the back of Yahaba’s head. The brunette boy understood the sentiment, tipping his head forwards to rest against Kyoutani’s chest. 

They didn’t say anything until Yahaba’s ragged breath had evened out. 

“It’s late” Yahaba said quietly, “We should go to bed.”

Kyoutani nodded resolutely, hopping off the counter and helping Yahaba put the rest of the first aid supplies back. Walking out into the hallway, Kyoutani stifled a yawn into his hand and noticed that the clock had hit 12:30 already. 

When they snuck into Yahaba’s bedroom, Yahaba set about finding a pair of pyjamas for the blond boy, and Kyoutani wandered over to Yahaba’s desk, peeking at the many scraps of paper that were hurriedly spread across the surface. 

“Is this what you were doing when I came?” Kyoutani asked, moving some of the papers around. Each of them was covered in doodles, some as simple as small designs, some so large that they took up the whole page. 

“Yeah.” Yahaba nodded, “Couldn’t sleep.” Partially due to his introverted nature, Yahaba had always had an inclination for art, and Kyoutani had secretly revelled in watching his best friend go from boasting to the blond about being able to color in the lines to creating beautiful pencil drawings that left Kyoutani speechless every time he saw them.

The doodles varied from faces to landscapes to horrific monsters, and Kyoutani noticed that the lines were much more dark and jagged than Yahaba usually did. 

_Good,_ Kyoutani thought to himself, _Art’s as good an outlet as anything else._

“Here” Yahaba said, holding out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Kyoutani changed and Yahaba cleaned up the doodles on his desk, shoving them into a drawer and out of sight. 

Finally, the boys collapsed next to each other on the bed. They were silent for a moment, before Kyoutani reached over and hooked Yahaba’s pinky finger with his own. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” The blond boy said gruffly. It was cheesy and a more or less a shot in the dark, but it seemed to be exactly what Yahaba needed to hear. The brunette boy turned his body over, burying his face in Kyoutani’s chest. 

No more words were exchanged, and they didn’t embrace at all except for the pinkys still loosely intertwined. Neither of them really needed more than that. 

Yahaba’s bedroom, with his rickety bed and his plastic stars glued to the ceiling, had always been Kyoutani’s favorite place. Not that he’d ever give the brunette the satisfaction of hearing that. 

Yahaba’s bedroom was the safe haven where the boys could watch shitty movies and doodle and do homework. They didn’t have to explain drug addict moms or abusive dads or siblings that had to choose themselves eventually. They grew up together, after all. They had _seen_ each other be dealt shitty hand after shitty hand. 

There were days that Kyoutani wondered if Yahaba was the only good card he’d ever be dealt. 

He promised himself that no matter what Ren did, he’d be there for Yahaba. He wasn’t sure quite when Yahaba went from being his first friend to his only safe place, and he wasn’t sure how he could thank him for it in any meaningful way. 

Even so, running his fingers through Yahaba’s hair while the boy snored softly into his T-shirt didn’t seem like a bad start. 

* * *

_January 12th, Today_

Kyoutani was fiddling with a broken pen in his bed when he heard the front door slam. He tensed immediately, hearing his father’s heavy footsteps in the hallway. He stilled, hearing the footsteps make their way towards his room. 

His father swung his door open, and Kyoutani kept his eyes trained straight ahead. 

“Hey Dad,” Kyoutani ground out. When his father was in this kind of mood, he wanted nothing more than to pick a fight with the boy. Kyoutani wanted nothing more than to avoid this, so he did his best to stay out of the old man’s way. Hard to stay out of his way when his Dad was standing in his doorway, though. 

“What’s wrong?” Kyoutani asked, finally looking his father in the eye. 

“Your mother called me.” His father said, crossing his arms, “She said she wants to reconnect with you.”

Kyoutani breathed in sharply. His mother had left when he was young, but she still called his father from time to time. When he was a boy, he harbored a lot of anger for the woman. As he got older, however, he understood more and more why she couldn’t stay with his dad any longer. Now his only grudge against the woman was that she hadn’t taken him with her. 

“Okay.” Kyoutani shrugged. He didn’t really have any feelings on the matter either way.

“That’s it?” His father hissed, stumbling towards Kyoutani’s bed. “That bitch abandons you and _I_ take care of you and she pops up wanting to be back in your life and you’re okay with it? You’d choose that _whore_ over me?” 

Kyoutani narrowed his eyes. “Don’t talk about her like that. She’s still my mother” He growled.

“She’s a stupid whore and you’re no better, you little shit.” His father says, grabbing for Kyoutani. The blond, however, predicted the drunken stupor and dodged out of the way. 

He lept off the bed as his father stumbled, and ran out of the room before his dad caught on to what was happening. Grabbing his bag, he sprinted down the hall, throwing on a coat and a pair of shoes and rushing out of the door.

Weaving his way in between the buildings, he realized he wasn’t totally sure where he was going. It was only nine, not too late. Normally, he could’ve shown up at Yahaba’s house, but the boy had an overnight trip for school with his art class. 

The wind whipped across Kyoutani’s face, and the boy pulled the hood up farther on his jacket. He walked a few more blocks before seeing a cafe with a warm light emanating out of it. 

He ducked into the cafe, which had a couple patrons sitting around, many on laptops or sipping hot drinks. He slung his bag off his shoulder and slunk into a seat in the corner of the cafe, pulling his notebook out of his bag and looking over the notes that Yahaba had loaned him for their math quiz tomorrow. 

He couldn’t focus, however, and found himself spacing out for a while and thinking about what his father had said. _No_ , he thought, _I don’t owe that bastard anything._

He wasn’t paying attention, and startled when a steaming cup was placed in front of him. 

“You like tea?” a voice above him asked. He looked up to see a young man with oddly grey hair and a kind look in his eye. Kyoutani looked around, suddenly aware that he was the last person in the cafe. 

“Sure,” Kyoutani shrugged. “I don’t have any cash though.”

“Don’t worry about it. Someone ordered this but had to leave before we finished it, so we’d have to throw it away otherwise.”

Kyoutani took the cup, sipping it slowly. 

“We’re closing soon.” The grey haired man said, “Is there anyone I can call for you or anything, kid?” 

_“_ Nah” Kyoutani said, slinging his bag onto his shoulder and standing, “I’m good”

“Hold on a second” The grey haired man said, “We’ve got some leftover pastries from the case today. My name’s Sugawara, by the way. Let me grab you one.” 

Kyoutani would normally refuse the offer, too prideful to be seen as a charity case, but it was late and he was tired and he didn’t get a chance to eat before his dad came home that night. He shrugged tiredly to the grey-haired man. 

“Here let me-” The man said, turning back to the counter, and seeing a shorter man with spiky hair climb on top of a counter, rag in hand. “ _Noya!”_ The grey haired man shouted, “What the hell are you doing!?”

“I’m dusting the top shelf! Relax Suga, I climb shit taller than this all the time.”

“Yeah but I’m not responsible if you eat shit and crack your skull open other times!” The grey haired man hissed, “My cafe isn’t a goddamn jungle gym for the employees!”

“How else am I supposed to clean up here? Besides, I’m barely an employee. I’m like family! I wouldn’t sue you, Suga”

“Just let me take care of it, moron” Suga sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling harshly. “Grab this kid a couple of pastries.”

“Oh cool!” The spiky-haired man began to climb down, catching himself as he slipped and shooting a sheepish look to Suga, “I’m Nishanoya, who are you kid?” 

“Don’t worry about it” the blond boy mumbled, slightly intimidated by the amount of energy this man seemed to have. If the man was offended by Kyoutani’s response, he didn’t show it as he pulled out a box of pastries. 

“You got a preference?” Noya asked, holding them out. Kyoutani shook his head, grabbing one that looked flaky, tearing off a piece and shoving it in his mouth. Raspberry wasn’t his favorite, but he wasn’t going to be picky about free food. 

“Thanks.” Kyoutani nodded to both the grey haired man and the shorter one with the blonde streak. 

“You gonna be okay?” The grey haired man asked, “I wouldn’t kick you out if we didn’t have to close.”

Kyoutani nodded, shrugging and spinning around, pulling his coat tighter around himself as he left the cafe. The men were nice enough, but he didn’t need more people concerned about him than strictly necessary. He walked the streets for about ten minutes, debating what to do. There was no going home, and there was no going to Yahaba’s. The wind was icy and dry, and his eyes watered when he turned into the wind. 

_Only one option_ he thinks to himself. _Dammit._

The idea of going to Oikawa and Iwaizumi had crossed his mind a few times, but he hadn’t considered it too seriously. He had promised himself he wouldn’t go back, and it felt pointless considering he wasn’t even hurt. Despite this, he couldn’t get the picture of Oikawa making him swear to come back out of his head. 

Oikawa was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar. Kyoutani doubts he would’ve said that if he hadn’t meant it. The blond boy hated the idea of crawling back to the two men, but the prospect of trying to find a place to sleep on the street was even less appealing knowing that he might have a spot available to him if could just swallow his stupid pride. 

He started in the direction of their building, his heart picking up the closer he got. _This is a bad idea_ he thought to himself, still unable to stop his feet from bringing him closer to their apartment. 

Eventually, he was standing in front of their door, hand positioned to knock. It was only ten, and he could hear the TV from the inside, so it wasn’t likely that they were asleep. 

_Now or never._

He knocked, waiting a minute and hearing shuffling coming from the inside.

“Iwa, I swear to god we really need to talk-” Oikawa exclaimed, swinging open the door and stopping when he saw Kyoutani standing there. “Kyoutani? What’s up?” 

Kyoutani blinked, staring at the older man for a minute. 

“Can I crash here?” Kyoutani asked around the nervous lump in his throat. He tried his best to keep his face neutral, but by the look in Oikawa’s eye, some of the stress in his voice was audible. 

“Of course,” Oikawa says gently, gesturing for the boy to come in and closing the door behind the both of them. “Do you want anything to eat?” Oikawa asked. Kyoutani shook his head. 

“Do you…” Oikawa started, trying to figure out what to say, “want to talk about anything?”

“Not really.” Kyoutani muttered, “Just need a place to crash.”

Oikawa nodded, the both of them going to sit on the couch, watching the volleyball game on TV. Oikawa shifted around a few times, clearly agitated about something. Kyoutani could feel his irritation from across the couch, and he was seriously starting to think that coming was a bad idea. 

Oikawa had told him that he could always turn up to the apartment if he needed to, but it wasn’t like Kyoutani was unused to adults making promises they didn’t follow through on. Finally, Kyoutani raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction. 

“Sorry Iwaizumi isn’t here.” Oikawa blurted out. 

“Nah that okay-”

“You’re probably wondering where he is.” The older man continued.

“...Not particularly-”

“Well that jackass is out at a bar right now with friends! Can you believe it! Out drinking on a Thursday night, as if we don’t both have work tomorrow! Don’t even get me started on _why_ he’s out drinking.”

“Okay-”

“Well if you _must_ know, it’s just that I was making small talk with his coworker when I went to his office and they go ‘we missed you at the office party’ and I was like are you serious! You know? Because Iwa didn’t even _invite me_ , and sure, he didn’t go either but it’s like does he not want me there?”

“Um…” Kyoutani hummed, “I’m not sure-”

“And so I brought it up to him, and he got all defensive, but at that point I was p _issed off_ . I can be clingy, sure, but is it crazy to feel offended that he doesn’t seem to want to spend any time together? And he wasn’t responding to any of it, and so I just straight up _asked_ him if he wants to be with me, because I want to _marry_ that man. I’ve always just kind of assumed that’s where we were headed, but what if he doesn’t want that, huh? What if he wants something else completely? I love him too much to hold him captive like that! What do you think!?” Oikawa said hysterically, looking at Kyoutani.

The blonde boy blinked, eyeing Oikawa warily. The man seemed like he really needed to be told something comforting. Unfortunately, Kyoutani had no clue what it was. 

“I’m sure… he loves you.” Kyoutani states, more of a question than a statement. 

“Yeah” Oikawa deflates slightly, “But who knows if he’s really committed. I mean, if he really doesn’t want to get married then I can live with that. I just want to be with him. I just want him to _want_ to be with me.”

Kyoutani nodded, _very_ unsure of what the brown haired man wanted to hear right now. Luckily, it seemed like Oikawa had calmed down slightly. 

“Sorry for dumping all that on you, Chihuahua.” Oikawa sighed, dragging a hand down his face, “I just needed to vent, and you’re… there.”

“Yeah” Kyoutani nodded.

“You’re a good listener, you know that?” 

Kyoutani shrugged. He doubted that Oikawa had very high standards for someone being a good listener. It seemed like all you had to do was stay quiet and let him rant. That’s fine by Kyoutani, of course. He’d rather that than someone actually need him to give them advice. 

They were finally settling in when they heard another knock at the door. Oikawa’s face hardened again, staring straight at the TV. After a moment, it became clear Oikawa wasn’t going to get the door, but the knocking wasn’t stopping. Hesitantly, Kyoutani got off the sofa and went to open the door. 

“Look Oikawa, I’m sorry but-” Iwaizumi started, stopping suddenly when he saw Kyoutani standing in the doorway. 

_What a weird fucking night,_ Kyoutani thought distantly to himself. 

“Kyoutani?” Iwaizumi said, stepping back slightly, “What are you doing here?”

Kyoutani just looked at him, and Iwaizumi shook his head, brushing it off and squeezing past Kyoutani. 

“Hajime.” Oikawa stood and nodded with a cold expression, “Welcome home.”

“ _Tooru,_ I’m sorry. I was being a jackass.” 

“Yep” Oikawa said, studying a hangnail with uncanny interest, “You sure were. And now you’re a drunk jackass.”

Iwaizumi’s face twisted into a scowl. “Can we talk about this later? I’ve got-”

“Later?” Oikawa said, his eyes narrowing, “You want to talk about this later!? Isn’t it later enough!? If you want to break up with me just do it now! Do it in front of the kid, why don’t you!” 

“No, Oikawa, I don’t want to-”

“Well do you want to even be with me, huh? Or would you rather…”

Kyoutani tuned out slightly, his attention drawn away when he heard a voice from the hallway. Stepping out slightly, he saw a black haired man and a grey haired man sitting on the floor. The grey haired man was lying on the floor completely, with his head in the smaller, black haired man’s lap. The smaller man ran his fingers clumsily through the other’s grey hair, and the man on the floor was singing something that sounded suspiciously like Justin Beiber.

Not that Kyoutani knew any Justin Bieber music, of course. 

“‘Kaashi look!” The grey haired man gasped slightly too loudly, pointing at Kyoutani, “It’s a kid!”

“Oh shit!” the black haired man giggled, smiling subtly, “It _is_ a kid. Hi kid” 

Kyoutani nodded to the pair, turning back in. It seemed Oikawa and Iwaizumi had made up, if the passionate (and sloppy) kissing was anything to go by. 

“These guys with you, Iwaizumi?” Kyoutani asked gruffly. 

“What guys?” Oikawa said, pulling away. 

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened minutely. “I may have dragged Bokuto and Akaashi home.”

“Iwa-channnn” Oikawa whined, “Whyyy.”

“Well, Bokuto was doing tequila shots… and you know how he is with tequila… And normally Akaashi can handle shit-faced Bokuto, but he went through two joints throughout the night on _top_ of a couple drinks, so he’s useless.”

Oikawa rubbed his face. “Are we the _only_ adults in the world that work tomorrow?”

“Oh no, they both work tomorrow.”

Oikawa fixed Iwaizumi with a glare, before walking out and looking at the two men on the floor. They both looked back up at him. Bokuto pointed again, “‘Kaashi look, it’s Oikawa.”

Akaashi nodded, his face carefully stoic. “Oikawa. Hello.” There was a moment of silence before Akaashi looked down to Bokuto, and snorting before falling into another fit of laughter. 

Their antics were enough to make even Oikawa crack a small smile. “I hope you both realize how much you’re gonna hate yourselves in the morning.”

“Nope!” Bokuto grinned widely, “Akaashi doesn’t get hangovers! How cool is that!?”

“That’s very cool” Oikawa nodded, going over and pulling the man up, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not going to.”

Bokuto groaned, leaning heavily on Oikawa’s shoulder. Akaashi got up on his own, albeit a bit wobbly. He walked over and stuck a hand out to Kyoutani, laughably formal considering he was wavering on his feet as he introduced himself. 

“Akaashi Keiji” The man said. Kyoutani shook his hand, mumbling his own name. “I’m assuming you're the kid that Oikawa keeps telling us about?” 

At this, Kyoutani sent a glare to Oikawa who returned it with a sheepish grin. 

Finally all inside the apartment, Bokuto collapsed on the couch near immediately, holding his arms out towards Akaashi. 

“Sorry about this.” Akaashi said to Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi waved him off, but Oikawa simply narrowed his eyes. “You owe me a favor, jackass. Also I know you aren’t really sorry” the brown-haired man grumbled. 

“Not at all” Akaashi said with a smirk, walking to the couch and falling on top of Bokuto, who wrapped him in his arms and adjusted their position so that he was, for the most part, curled around the smaller man. 

“Looks like you’re in the guest bed, kid.” Iwaizumi said, scratching his head. 

“Finally,” Oikawa huffed, “Someone had to use our damn guest bed. For all the effort I put into decorating this place, everyone comes in and sleeps on the goddam _couch_.”

“It is a nice couch,” Kyoutani contends quietly. He turned to the bedroom, shocked to find himself suddenly walking into a solid chest instead. 

“Thanks for letting me bitch to you, Kyoutani.” Oikawa said, briefly wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulder. Kyoutani peeled him off with a sneer while Iwaizumi laughed. 

“I can’t believe you used a twelve year old as a therapist.” Iwaizumi said, grinning in Oikawa’s direction. 

Oikawa scowled. “I’ll have you know that the kids are great listeners. It could probably do you some good to talk to someone once in a while.”

“If I ever do, it’ll be a professional. That I pay. Not a preteen.”

“Aw c’mon. Chihuahua likes talking to me, don’t you?” Oikawa says to Kyoutani. Kyoutani stayed silent, his eyes flicking between the two men. Iwaizumi caught the motion and proceeded to start laughing so hard he almost fell over, having to lean his slightly intoxicated form on the kitchen counter to stay upright. 

“Oh fuck you both.” Oikawa crossed his arms, stomping to the bedroom. “Enjoy the guest bedroom kid. Sleep well amidst the fruits of my painstaking, interior design labors.” 

“Judging by the rest of your apartment, the labor wasn’t too painstaking.” Kyoutani mumbled, sending Iwaizumi into another round of laughter, and Oikawa off to his room with another melodramatic scoff. 

“You have to start coming by more. That never gets less funny” Iwaizumi says. Kyoutani nods distantly. Iwaizumi claps him on the shoulder. “You okay in the guest bedroom?”

Kyoutani nodded again. 

“Alright. Thanks for coming, by the way. Before shit got out of hand.” Iwaizumi adds, not so subtly scanning Kyoutani’s face for traces of pain. Whereas the gesture might normally make the boy shove him away, he now let the man look over him. 

If he was enjoying the feeling of having someone genuinely concerned about him, he didn’t need to admit that to anyone. 

Iwaizumi nodded, apparently satisfied and not finding Kyoutani to be lying about anything. “Alright. Night, Kid.”

“Night” Kyoutani said in return, both leaving to go to their separate rooms. He crawled under the blankets and fell asleep right away, but not before appreciating the tastefully subtle, muted color palette of the guest bedroom. 

When he woke up the next morning, he looked at the clock next to the bed. It was half past seven, and he heard movement from outside the room. 

Opening the door, he saw Iwaizumi and Oikawa, fully dressed, mulling around the kitchen. Akaashi was sitting on one of the stools, swamped in a massive hoodie that Kyoutani could’ve sworn the grey-haired man had been wearing last night and sipping periodically on a cup of coffee.

Right on cue, the grey haired man ( _Bokuto_ , his brain supplied) swung the bathroom door open, sweatpants slung low on his hips and displaying an impressively muscular chest. He wandered over, burying his face in Akaashi’s shoulder and groaning. Akaashi’s lips quirked up, scratching gently at the man’s hair. 

“I think I’m dead, Keiji,” Bokuto muttered, his voice muffled in the fabric of his own top. 

“You can’t skip practice. Try to ditch and I’m telling Miya and Hinata that you’re out because you’re hungover.”

“You’re cruel, ‘Kaashi” 

“And you’re a lightweight.”

“To be fair,” Iwaizumi interjected, “He did do twelve shots of tequila”

Oikawa looked incredulously at Bokuto. “You did _twelve_ shots _?_ Bokuto what the _fuck?”_

“I like tequila” Bokuto shrugged. 

“Fine,” Akaashi conceded, “You’re not a lightweight. Just monumentally stupid.”

“I’ll take it” Bokuto mumbled, stealing the coffee cup out of Akaashi’s hands and draining the rest, much to the shorter man’s displeasure. 

“Oh,” Iwaizumi said, finally seeing Kyoutani standing in the doorway, “Mornin’ kid.” 

Kyoutani didn’t respond, instead walking over and climbing onto the unoccupied stool. 

“Hello” Akaashi said, nodding to Kyoutani, “I’m afraid I may have made a bad first impression last night. I assure you I’m not always that… foolish.”

“Please,” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, “Anything less that stone cold sober and you drape yourself over Bokuto like the world's clingiest octopus.”

“That’s not true-”

“ _Yes it is_ ” Oikawa and Iwaizumi cut him off together. 

“Anyways,” Akaashi said, with a glare shot towards both men, “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Not that much, I’m sure,” Oikawa scratched his neck awkwardly.

“Not from you,” Bokuto says quietly, “Iwa mentions him a lot at practice.”

Now it was Iwaizumi’s turn to glare at Bokuto, as the other man hid a guilty smile behind his stolen mug of coffee. Oikawa pushed a bowl of cereal towards Kyoutani with a cup of orange juice. 

“What time does school start. You’ve got everything you need?”

“9 o’clock. And yeah, I’m good.”

“What grade are you in anyway?” 

“First year at Ushimi Middle school.”

“No shit!” Bokuto said, looking up suddenly, “I went there!” 

“Oh,” Kyoutani said, as Bokuto bombarded him with questions about different teachers or parts of the school and what had changed. Kyoutani did his best to answer the energetic man’s questions, but he was just a first year, and he wasn’t exactly the patron saint of school spirit anyways. He really didn’t know much about the school at all. 

“We should go, Kou,” Akaashi said, standing up and stretching his arms. Bokuto nodded, pulling on a T-shirt he had stolen from Iwaizumi. Kyoutani noticed the flush spread across Akaashi’s cheeks when he saw the slightly-too-small shirt pulled tight across the grey-haired man’s chest. 

“Do you want one of us to walk with you to school?” Oikawa said, turning to Kyoutani. The blonde boy shook his head. 

“Alright, we’re out.” Akaashi said to the two men. Bokuto turned to Kyoutani. “It was nice to finally meet you. You’re quieter than I was expecting though.”

“Everyone is quiet compared to you Bo.” Akaashi rolled his eyes, “It’s nice to meet you Kyoutani.”

“You too” Kyoutani mumbled, watching as the two bickered over something as they left the apartment. A strange couple, sure, but Kyoutani could see why they got along with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. 

“Are you good to go to school? You need money for the bus or anything?” Iwaizumi asked. His awkward demeanor told Kyoutani the older man definitely could remember his goofy, tipsy behavior from the night prior. It was a hard 180 from his regular cool, level-headed, personality. 

“Yeah I’m good. My school’s close.” Kyoutani responded as he finished the cereal and began to collect his things. 

Oikawa handed Kyoutani a water bottle and a granola bar, crouching down to look him in the eye. 

“I’m glad you came here, okay Chihuahua? Whether or not you’re in immediate danger, you’re welcome here. We’ve got a spare bedroom and you’re welcome to it, even if you don’t necessarily need to be. Better safe than sorry, okay?”

“Tastefully furnished” Kyoutani mumbled under his breath after a beat of silence.

“Hmm?”

“A tastefully furnished spare bedroom”

“Awwww Chihuahua! You noticed!” Oikawa squealed, trying to pull Kyoutani into a hug while Kyoutani pressed his shoulders to hold him back. 

“Please don’t encourage him,” Iwaizumi muttered, “If he starts making me look at paint swatches again, I’m stabbing my goddamn eyeballs out.” 

“You guys just have no appreciation for the finer things” Oikawa grumbled. Iwaizumi quirked an eyebrow, snagging Oikawa by the collar. 

“I beg to differ,” he said lowly, kissing Oikawa and causing Kyoutani to scoff and turn on his heel, marching to the door. “Bye Chihuahua!” Oikawa called out, “Don’t fail all of your classes!”

Kyoutani flipped them off and slammed the door behind him.

It wasn’t much, but over the next few weeks Kyoutani started showing up at the apartment more and more. Sometimes he’d come with fresh bruises, and sometimes not. Sometimes Yahaba would be tailing him and the two would slip into the spare bedroom and curl up in the bed like their limbs were made to slot together. 

Then Oikawa started asking Yahaba's opinion about layouts for his magazine and what shots went best with the color scheme. Then Iwaizumi started quizzing Kyoutani on vocabulary words while cooking, intermittently handing him spoonfuls of sauces and toppings, asking what he needed to add. 

Then Yahaba started sketching them from time to time and when this was discovered, Oikawa confiscated a drawing of Kyoutani sitting on the kitchen counter with Iwaizumi at the stove, identical grins on their faces while they mocked Oikawa for something. 

Then the drawing was promptly stuck on their fridge with a magnet from their dentist’s office. 

Over the next couple months, their lives all became slowly more intertwined, to the point where Kyoutani and Oikawa started going grocery shopping together and Iwaizumi started checking over the report cards the blond boy brought back from school. 

Kyoutani couldn’t honestly argue the fact that he enjoyed having people to look out for him in the way adults were supposed to look out for kids. Nobody would say Iwaizumi and Oikawa were natural caretakers, but Kyoutani was more independent than most kids his age anyway. Nobody said it was conventional, but it worked well enough for them. 

It was unconventional, sure, but belonging is belonging no matter where you find it. Kyoutani was reckless, hostile, and overly prideful, but even he wasn’t dense enough to ignore the word that came to mind abruptly as he watched Oikawa and Iwaizumi quarrel over who had to wash the dishes on a rainy Thursday night. 

_Family_. 

**Author's Note:**

> There it was! Writing heavy stuff like abuse and hard drug use isn't really my strong suit so if you have criticism on it please feel free to let me know.
> 
> Other than that I hope you enjoyed it! I'm very excited to start writing in more characters, so this is the start of that (and what better way to introduce more characters than drunk Bokuaka and Baker Suga). 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


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